


I Didn't Mean To

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The one where Louis fucks up royally and can't fix it.





	

_ They laid out in a field, on top of a bunch of plush blankets and under the stars. It was cold, like most nights, but the post-sex heat radiating off their bodies kept them warm. Louis moved to curl into the younger boy, resting his head delicately at the soft skin where Harry’s shoulder met his neck. _

 

_ “I love you.” _

 

_ Louis froze, his whole body tensed up. He thought that maybe, if he tried enough, he could push those words out of his head and he could pretend like he didn’t hear Harry. That maybe, just maybe, Harry would have caught on and not repeated himself. _

 

_ He cleared his throat and Louis tensed up once more, a living, breathing version of rigor mortis. _

 

_ “I love you, Louis.” _

 

•••

 

It isn’t his fault he’s so guarded.

 

Louis didn’t always push people away and build walls higher than any number of blunts could get him. He didn’t used to go cold at the sound of one syllable, at the sound of four letters, at the sound of one word. The blame can’t be placed on anybody but himself, but he didn’t used to freeze up at the mention of  _ love _ . The stories of his mother’s past, of his father screwing, of his mother’s second divorce, were what set it in his mind that he was never going to fall in love.

 

He’s had that dream a few times (a week) now over the three years they’ve been apart. The dream where they’re panting, sweaty and blissful. Where Louis couldn’t picture himself in anybody else’s arms despite his hate for being in love. Now, his heart aches and most nights he’d tell himself not to text. Tonight feels different to Louis. There’s fire in his belly and a weight on his chest that he can’t explain.

 

He isn’t even sure if the number is in service anymore, Harry never texts him back, but he feels the need to try again. Maybe something more than a stupid little ‘hey’ will coax a reply out of Harry this time.

 

**Louis [03:47]:** we should hang out, talk about some stuff.

 

Talking about things implies that he wants to fix them, that he wants to fix their relationship and that he wants to talk about his terrible reaction to the words he said. Louis in the same room as Harry while talking about the way they ended means tears, likely on both of their faces, and frustrated hands clenched at his sides. He’s always struggled with words, but he thinks he’s grown to love Harry through all this absence — he thinks he’s always loved Harry, but now he can say it and put words to the feelings in his chest from those years ago.

 

The truth is, Louis knows he made a fool of himself that night. He knows that he could have handled the situation with so much care, he could have babied Harry into the explanation.

 

He could have told Harry from the beginning that he didn’t think he knew how to love or how to fall in love. Right from day one, Louis could have done things different. He knows it now and he wishes he could go back in time and fix things. He wishes he could still have Harry by his side, that he could have explained the walls surrounding his heart.

 

**Louis [03:52]:** im sorry. I never should have just gotten up and walked away from you like that. it wasnt fair to you, i wasnt being fair to you.

 

Logic would have told Louis that Harry was sleeping — any normal person is asleep at nearly four in the morning. Louis can’t sleep after the dream, he can’t shake the guilt in his gut and he needs to explain it to Harry. Along the bookshelf in his room, he’s got an entire row dedicated to his journals. Journals in which Louis pours his heart out to Harry knowing that he’ll never read them, knowing that Harry won’t give him the chance again.

 

His heart stops momentarily when his phone buzzes on the table next to him. Without hesitation, his hand darts out for his phone, but Louis freezes. There’s great probability that Harry (if the text is even from him) is just going to tell him to fuck off. He slips his phone under his pillow and rolls over in bed, hiding his face in his hands as he takes a deep, grounding breath. Louis doesn’t want to do this, not now. Not when he’s most vulnerable, coming down from a high and alone. He wishes he was around people, so he could have a reason to fight the tears picking at his eyes.

His phone buzzes again, sending shockwaves to every nerve ending in Louis’ body.

 

**Harry [04:01]:** why? so you can fuck me over again? do you plan on fucking me a few times and then leaving me on my own out in the woods again?

 

**Harry [4:02]:** because if that’s what you’re planning on doing, you can stop these pathetic late-night texts

 


End file.
